Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist That pleasure belongs to Square Enix and Arakawa Hiromu.

Notes: This story was brought to you by a third floor dorm room, one fan, a 3:00am heat wave, and complete lack of air conditioning. Please enjoy the fruits of my misery.

To Fry an Egg

"Sweltering."

"Sizzling."

"Roasting."

"Blistering."

"Ooh, good one. Uh…"

It was hot in Central, to understate in massive proportions.

There were hundreds of different words to describe the heat that rose from the streets of Amestris' main city in palpable waves. Havoc and Breda catalogued them lazily, sitting cross-legged on the floor in various states of undress. Next to them, a small fan blew meager air.

"Um..." Breda continued to falter, wiping sweat from the back of his neck as he did so. Havoc turned away from the fan and grinned at the man, unlit cigarette dangling from his lower lip.

"Stuck?" he asked innocently. "Not that I mind…" The other soldier glared half-heartedly.

"Boiling," he snapped triumphantly. Breda turned the fan back towards himself and shoved his face nose to blade in front of it. Havoc pouted.

"Damn. Um."

"Boiling was already used, Second Lieutenant."

Both men looked up at Hawkeye. Havoc beamed at her as she reached out to snap up a form that had flown off the desk, courtesy of a second fan oscillating by her side. The woman had doffed her own outer coat and had even gone so far as to unbutton the first few buttons on the white shirt underneath; testament to the extremely unusual levels of heat in the room and city outside.

"Ha!" Havoc crowed, swinging the fan back around to face him. "I win!" Breda gave a disgruntled sigh and leaned back on his hands.

"'S too hot to be working our brains like this," he complained. "And where's Farman? Shouldn't he be back yet?"

"Maybe he fainted like Fury did," Havoc suggested, words garbled by the fan.

Hawkeye glanced up at her subordinates, then glared at the piece of paper that dared escape her grasp and flutter down to the floor. "I doubt it. The hospital ward is air conditioned." She sighed, exasperated, at the twin outcries that arose from the remaining two men. "Why else do you suppose he was so quick in offering to carry Fury down there?" she asked them.

Havoc scowled, slapping Breda's hand away as it deviously attempted to steal the fan back. "That sly bastard," he muttered, rubbing at his chin thoughtfully. Then to Breda: "If you want it back, come up with another word."

All three officers twitched as the door slammed open. "It is hot enough to fry an egg on Al," Ed pronounced with an air of doom from the doorway. Havoc raised an eyebrow.

"Good one, boss," he agreed, smiling squint-eyed at the boy's confusion. Breda's eyes lit up.

"Hot enough to fry--"

"Nope. No good using someone else's phrase," Havoc cut in, and hugged the fan to his chest as Breda growled and pounced on it. Edward and Alphonse Elric stared at the two officers mutely from the door for several seconds. Then, shrugging, Ed stepped around them and went to Hawkeye. Al followed his older brother quietly.

"Seriously!" he continued his rant, waving his arms at the female in front of him. She subtly leaned forward into the air currents he made. "You think I'm joking but I'm not. My brother is a walking frying pan! And I'm not even gonna start on the automail. This is so not cool!"

"Obviously," Havoc said from the floor. He poked at Breda, who had collapsed on the floor next to him and contemplated the effort it would take to carry the man down to the infirmary versus the pleasure of air conditioning. Breda was a lot bigger than Fury.

Edward threw a glare over his shoulder at the man. "Oh shut up. And," he paused, looked around the room with sudden bewilderment. "Why in hell is it hotter in here than outside?"

Hawkeye looked at Edward. "The Colonel," she said in a dry monotone, "sees no need for air conditioning."

Edward stared at her. Then he blinked and stared some more. Muttering darkly, he spun and headed for the door to the inner office, snapping for Al to come with him. Hawkeye and Havoc looked at each other. They stood simultaneously and followed the alchemists into the inner chambers.

Colonel Roy Mustang looked up in surprise at his sudden guests. The man relaxed in his comfy office chair still dressed in full military outfit, face and hair dry of any sweat. He smirked bemusedly and propped his elbows on the desk, folding his hands and resting his chin on them. "Ah, Fullmetal. I wasn't expecting you today." He cocked his head to one side and frowned a bit. "Alphonse? Are you glowing?"

Edward held up one automail finger and reached into his pocket with the other hand. He withdrew a small off white object, oval in shape and held it up as a magician might. Glaring at the Colonel, he reached over and cracked it sharply on Alphonse's arm plate.

Sizzling filled the silence in the room as the smell of cooking egg permeated the air. Mustang chuckled weakly.

"Well, I suppose it is a little warm."

Owari.

End notes: I always figured Roy was a cold bastard in more ways than one. After all, he'd have to have a little more heat resistance, what with playing with fire all day long. Please let me know if anything is wrong fact-wise. I think I have everything right but I'm new to this fandom. And please review if you love FMA! (and me) Thanks!

Kotori